


unfolded in brilliant lights

by Soqquadro



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Erwin Smith, But also, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Dominant Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Hair-pulling, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Submissive Erwin Smith, Top Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), also, also yes those can co-exist, and what is there better than smut to cheer you up when you are sad, because Levi, degradation kink, i was sad, i'm not even sorry, kind of rough in general probably, linen probably doesn't work that way, or maybe i'm just weird, such a plot twist, this is literally just Levi domming the shit out of everyone's favourite commander because why not, unoriginal and badly written but it's there, unrealistic refractory period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 06:23:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14396172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soqquadro/pseuds/Soqquadro
Summary: He doesn't say anything. They look at each other, instead, for a long moment filled with silence. Levi's gaze is heavy, meaningful. Assessing him, too.It makes him restless, already helplessly pinned under it before Levi even talks. The alcohol is a faraway thought in the back of his mind, almost forgotten. He needs this, now.(It had started because he needed it. [...]Sometimes, it's just easier to let Levi take charge.





	unfolded in brilliant lights

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there everyone!  
> I should probably stop getting into new fandoms with smut, but I tend to write a lot of it these days so I just take what I'm given I suppose ╮(╯∀╰)╭  
> And I really, really love Eruri so I wanted to make a first good impression - which I probably failed to do, but I hope I will manage to write some more and be forgiven eventually.  
> But anyway, before letting you to it, some notes:  
> → They clearly don't use the street light method cause they don't have street lights so it felt kind of pointless, the association with the colours wouldn't have made much sense I think. Also, as I came to realise while having a lengthy discussion with myself over BDSM in the SNK universe at three am, there's probably no such thing as informative books or anything, let alone talking to people because they're in the gayer equivalent of Middle Ages and that could definitely turn out badly unless the people are Hanji, but Erwin and Levi have some sense into them and I'm sure they have an arranged method to stop things in case anything happens. Even if that method is simply yelling stop or the Morse code for sos or whatever is the correspondent thing. Also they probably learnt of the importance of aftercare the hard way, but now they definitely have a routine they stick to. They're smart boys.  
> → Also please, please this is not a realistic depiction of anything involving sex, kinky or not. To do this with a partner you need negotiation, a safe-word, well-established boundaries and so many other things. This was just for fun and practice, so really, it's not very accurate, nor it wants to be.  
> → It's also horribly self-indulgent so I'm very sorry if I messed up the characterisation. Erwin is the love of my life but he's pretty much impossible to get right and I'm not that talented, so I don't really know why I chose to go and write this focusing on him (⋟﹏⋞) But please if you're willing to give advice, I will gladly take it.  
> And that's about it. :)  
> Enjoy!

When they finally, _finally_ manage to get even the last polite pleasantries off their backs and return to their room, the only thing Erwin wishes for is to stop thinking.

(He's hardly ever able to do that if not at night, and even then it's rare. Logic makes its way into his dreams, and when it doesn't it keeps him up at night instead.)

There's a bottle of hard liquor on the table, probably a gift from the owners. It's tempting, easy oblivion in a glass, but drinking before a fund raising reunion is a terrible idea. Dealing with the aftermath while carefully manoeuvring politics to not have the Corps completely wiped out wouldn't work out too well.

He wonders for a moment if that's why the host provided them with such an expensive-looking bottle of bourbon, or if it's normal courtesy of a tavern as elegant as this one. It's way more than what they're used to, a fancy place filled with delicate noblemen exhausted from their trip.

Levi must hate it.

(Erwin is sure he does. He can read it in the tightness of his shoulders, in the rapid shifting of his eyes, assessing and focused.)

He doesn't say anything. They look at each other, instead, for a long moment filled with silence. Levi's gaze is heavy, meaningful. Assessing _him_ , too.

It makes him restless, already helplessly pinned under it before Levi even _talks_. The alcohol is a faraway thought in the back of his mind, almost forgotten. He needs this, now.

(It had _started_ because he needed it. It prevented him from breaking down under major stress quite a few times before, when he was young and his newly found power made him soar, responsibility slamming him down into the ground again right after every small success.

He needed it, then, in the same way he does now. He _wants_ it, he craves the occasional relief that comes with relinquishing power to Levi. It's not even a struggle anymore, comes as natural as breathing, when they are like this. He knows Levi will always give it back, eventually.)

Levi got better at reading him, too – not seeing right through him yet, but close enough to notice things most would ignore. He's not surprised when he talks, not by his voice or by his request.

«Now, _Commander_. Strip and get on your knees.» he says, stern. No trace of hesitation in his tone.

(He already knows what he wants from him tonight. He must have been able to tell from early in the evening, all through the charity dinner. Maybe even since the morning, when they had boarded their carriage to Mitras.)

Erwin follows his directions without question. He's still wearing his suit, but he makes quick work of his jacket and shirt, his fingers swift over the too many buttons.

Levi looks pointedly at him, then, and it doesn't take long at all to figure out what he wants. He ends up shedding everything below the waist much more slowly, breathing in to calm the thrumming of his heartbeat.

(If they aren't in a rush, it means it will be torturous.

Erwin is sure of it, even if he's not sure at all of how this system of non-verbal signals has came to. It just _happened_ , as most things do when Levi is involved.)

Anticipation burns low in his stomach while he kneels, slow and careful, completely naked before him. He folds his hands on top of his thighs, head bowed.

It feels familiar, reassuring. The floor is hard, and the room still a bit too cold for him not to shiver, but it's just like many other nights and other floors and other bedrooms, his body relaxing in a starting position Levi is extremely fond of.

He stills, and he waits. He doesn't look up, not even when he hears Levi rummaging through their suitcases.

(He's most likely searching for the oil and anything else they might need. Curiosity nags him, insistent, together with the urge to prepare himself to what is to come.

He fights them down, trying to drown them in the regular rhythm of his own breath, in the soft rustling of clothes that accompanies Levi's movements.)

He's so focused on his task that he doesn't notice Levi getting closer until he grabs his chin, lifting his head to make Erwin look at him.

His expression is as calm and collected as always, grey eyes piercing through him and almost too intense.

He glances down, then, distantly nothing that he's lost his jacket, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows.

When he looks up again, Levi is smirking.

(He uses the term loosely, his smile so small anyone else would think it the beginning of a grimace.

He doesn't roll his eyes, as much as he wants to. He's made that mistake one too many times before, and it never got him anything good.

It's much harder to pay attention when his guard slips down.)

«You look so pretty like that, you know? So obedient, waiting for me with your head down, without even peeking.» he says, almost casually. Another shiver runs through him, stronger than before, and he has to swallow down a truly undignified sound. That's... new.

(Levi called him plenty of things before, some of them flattering and others not so much. But not _pretty_ , never pretty.

His face, his build, the hardness of his lines – those things are not pretty, and nobody ever thought about calling them so, and he never cared about it.

They both know that. But Levi checks on him with a tilt of his head, questions unasked in the curve of his mouth, and if that's how it's going to be tonight, he doesn't mind. He _wants_ to hear it again.

He only nods, curtly, breath coming a little faster.)

He smiles again, that secret smile nobody ever notices, and his voice is gravelly when he talks again.

«You'd look even prettier sucking cock, I'm sure. But why don't we _taste_ **1** that theory out, mh? You never liked sloppy hypothesis, and I really, _really_ want to fuck your mouth.» he goes on, and Erwin doesn't even bother acknowledging the joke in his words with anything but a smile, fighting down a sudden chuckle that would be inappropriate right now.

(Levi _does_ this, sometimes. And it's usually at unfitting times like this one – whispered so that only he can hear them, probably because he's the only one that can understand them most times, during meetings or dinners or fancy parties.

The first time he did it, little less than a year after joining the Corps, during a private meeting, Erwin was so surprised to hear _humour_ come out of him that he had a full-blown giggle fit right in front of him. Unbecoming of him, but he couldn't stop it.

He's come to think maybe that was the day he started to _feel_ for Levi, and in retrospect it's as likely as it is beautiful.

They don't have time or energy for laughing, in their world, but he makes it anyway.)

Instead, everything he does is letting his lips fall open, looking up at him. An agreement, and an invitation.

(He _likes_ Levi in his mouth. The weight and warm of it, even the bitter taste. The noises he makes, low growls deep in his throat and breathy pleas.)

If his wrists are unbound, it normally means Levi wants him to control it. He feels a pang of worry at the thought, but moves anyway to do just that. Or he _would_ , if Levi's fingers didn't move from his jaw to his hair, his grip tightening.

«Ah, don't even think about it. Tonight, the rules are you don't move if not explicitly told. And, unless you want to tap out, you don't make a noise. Doesn't matter what I do to you. That's your only task. Understood?» he says, and Erwin _knows_ his eyes are widening, his expression unable to mask his surprise.

Levi waits, without ever lowering his gaze, for him to process his words. And he really _does_ ponder it, depicting it in as much detail as he can manage.

(Choosing to be helpless again and again through the night, of his own volition, only to please him. Laying tense and unable to writhe and squirm and moan, only taking and taking and _taking_ everything Levi's willing to give him.

His throat is dry.)

The words are out of his mouth before he realises it, his tongue almost getting tangled in the urgency of it.

«Yes, sir. Please, sir.» he says, and he revels in the pleased look on Levi's face, in the way he turns away, letting his grasp slacken and his head fall forward again. He doesn't lift it, listening to the soft sounds of fabric sliding over skin, eyes closed.

He hears Levi closing in again, feels his fingers – rough, calloused skin, warm – opening his mouth, his shoulders sagging a bit to accommodate the difference in their heights. He stays still, barely breathing, until he can taste precum, the familiar stretch widening his lips.

He opens his eyes, then, looking up at him. Levi shivers, and he can't help but taking pride in it, in the rapid filling of his erection under his slowly moving tongue.

His smile is a bit wider, now – there's something ferocious in his expression, dark and focused and _arousing_ , the intensity of it making him shudder in kind.

«Beautiful.» he whispers, so low that Erwin isn't sure he was meant to hear it. And then, louder to warn him, «Let's see if I can make you cry.» he finishes, and Erwin's stomach twists with desire, the need for it so strong it makes him ache, pushing his head against Levi's hands in his hair, his own still orderly folded on his thighs. It gets him a stern look, fingers pulling at it without care, and he doesn't really care either when Levi _actually_ gets to it.

The sudden invasion is welcomed, his throat closing on him hard enough to make him gag on the first thrust. Levi groans, the sound so deep he can almost _feel_ it, and he does it back, closing his eyes again. He loses himself in the simple task of staying still, his throat relaxed, his lips pulled over his teeth – in the sensation of hot skin in his mouth, the steady trickling of salty liquid on his tongue. The breathy little noises Levi lets out, the occasional curse ( _occasional_ , an even stream of _fuckyeslikethat_ making its way out, mingled with _your mouth is so good, you're so good, taking it like you're desperate for it_ that make him flush brighter than shame).

It all stops quite abruptly, Levi harshly backing away from him, a moan still muffled in his throat. He whines before he can stop himself, eyes snapping open, and that's when he realises he's been actually _crying_.

His cheeks are wet, the salt on his lips too strong to come only from him – and Levi seems amazed by it, getting closer to wipe his cheekbones, his breath still heavy. He clears his voice, throat pleasantly raw, his mind still hazed.

(It's such a miraculous feeling. Not being able to think clearly, the dizziness of light lack of oxygen and the pain of being used, of _not_ being required to think in the first place.

It feels like a blessing, like a gift.)

«You're such a whore for it that you _whine_ when I take it away, even though you were explicitly told not to make unnecessary sounds.» Levi clicks his tongue, the panting subduing, his mouth curving down, and Erwin can feel more tears springing to his eyes, embarrassment taking over for a moment.

(He wonders what the Corps would say if anyone knew.

If anyone _saw_ him, like this, on his knees before Levi, getting scolded for not following orders and crying with how good it is.)

Levi backs away, and doesn't come to touch him again.

Instead, he sees him moving towards the bed, ultimately disappearing from his limited range of vision, his voice coming from behind.

«Now get on the bed, and if you manage to be good through the rest of the night I'll consider forgiving you, mh?» he husked, his tone a caress, his words dangerous. Erwin obeys blindly, getting up too quickly on shaky legs, almost stumbling in his hurry to get to where he's waiting, managing to look composed even if his face is red with exertion and his erection is pulled tight against his stomach.

(He's not much better at all, acutely aware of the show he must be while staggering towards the mattress with uncertain steps, his hair wildly tangled and his eyes puffy from tears. Pitiful, really.

He can't bring himself to care – not when Levi looks at him with desire etched into his expression, for once clear, unmistakable.)

He finally manages to lie down, under Levi's guidance to face the ceiling, arms relaxed by his sides. It's a comfortable position – one he can maintain for long stretches of time, and it's not hard to guess what it means.

He doesn't _have_ to, when Levi is more than happy to tell him, still sitting next to him but careful not to touch him. His voice is a gravelly thing, too close to his ear, his breath tickling Erwin's neck.

«You look so helpless, laying there, naked and hard. God, you're _so_ hard, only from sucking me off. Such an eager slut.» and it's harsh, his words are harsh, stinging like a whip stroke in his mind, and he _relishes_ it, shivering under his scrutiny. Every bit as helpless as he says.

(Levi could choke him now, if he wanted to. Could slit his throat, and Erwin wouldn't even see it coming.

It used to terrify him, making him tense and unable to let go for hours at a time. But Levi has always been patient, coaxing him into it for as long as it was needed.

Nobody seems to understand him as easily as he does, as deeply as he does – sometimes it's lonely, unsustainable. And he comes to him with his head bowed, and Levi takes him out of his own mind, out of his body, and he's _grateful_.)

He doesn't answer, waiting for the follow up. It's not his place to answer, anyway.

«And since you've been so willing, I will reward you.» he goes on, amusement making his tone light. It makes him want to look at his face, his expression, but he would have to turn his head for it, and he's not about to risk it. So he stays still, taking pleasure in hearing it instead. «We have all night, after all. I'll make you come as many times as you possibly can, Commander,» and his title sounds like blasphemy on those lips, in this moment, «until your cock is so sensitive you'll want to beg for me to just _stop_ because you can't take it anymore. But you won't, because you're going to remain perfectly still and perfectly _quiet,_ during all of it. And when you'll be limp and worn out and you won't have the strength to plead, little more than a doll, I'm going to fuck you so good you'll feel it for _days_.» and isn't that just what he wants more, to _know_ even when the tie strangles him and the façade sickens him, «Tomorrow you'll sit through your fancy meeting with the higher ups flinching every time you shift on your chair, passing it off as a training accident. And you'll _love_ it, having to play nice and in control even though you and me know who's really in charge here.» and then Levi's straddling his hips, blunt nails raking down his chest hard enough to leave signs. He chokes down a gasp when Levi grinds down, forceful, and the tight spring in his stomach snaps, muscles convulsing.

(It comes as a surprise, the first one. He didn't notice he was close, didn't notice how affected he was by Levi's words.

He never notices how much power he has on him until it's too late.)

When he manages to open his eyes, aftershocks still rocking through him, Levi's looking at him with an arched eyebrow, lips held tight.

«You're so easy.» he says, and humiliation worms his way into his stomach, his face burning hot with it.

(It's not as bad, when he notices just how much Levi's leaking, precum sticking his stomach and his softening cock, and the sheer arousal badly hidden in his expression.)

He runs lazy fingers through the mess on his stomach, and the absurdity of the action – of Levi doing so, Levi that won't lie down on their bed unless the sheets are changed after every one of these kind of late night sessions – entices him, his gaze slowly following him.

Then he's stroking him again, the sensitive flesh burning with the friction of his fingers on him – he bites back a whimper, the sound pitifully dying in the back of his throat, curls his fingers in the covers hoping Levi won't notice to stop himself from bucking his hips down.

Levi coaxes him back to hardness quickly – much more than he thought was possible – leaning down on him, chest to chest, whispering filth into his ears with such ease Erwin would think him a prostitute, if he didn't know better.

He can't help but pant, the painful feeling slowly, slowly turning pleasant again, Levi's hand slick and hot and perfect around him. He closes his eyes, but he can feel his gaze on himself all the same, calculating and bright.

«Mh, this isn't working, is it? What do you say about my mouth?» he asks, but he _doesn't_ , really, releasing him to slide further down his body, hands sliding over his legs, over the bruises left by the gear, and pressing down on them like it's nothing.

(He hisses, and Levi slaps his thigh, hard and sudden, and he's forced to silence once again, breathing in deeply, deeply, deeply.)

And then Levi's lips close around his shaft, the lightest hint of teeth grazing at his tip and grey eyes looking up at him, sultry and malicious.

He toys with it, his tongue curling and uncurling slowly, torturous. Erwin clenches his jaw, hands hurting from how hard he's gripping the sheets, muscles shaking with the effort not to thrust into the warmth.

Levi bobs his head a couple of times, too slow to be anything but teasing, and then pops off with a wet, dirty sound, his voice a bit hoarse already.

«If you manage to come in the next three minutes, you'll do it in my mouth. Unless you prefer me stroking you dry, sure.» he murmurs, almost _purrs_ , and Erwin can feel his stomach clench, still desperately far from the peak.

Levi _hates_ that. He doesn't like oral sex all that much, but he can barely tolerate the feeling of come in his mouth.

Erwin wonders – at least, the part of him still capable of somewhat logical thinking, to be fair very reduced, does. It's over pretty quickly, when Levi plunges down again, a man on a mission – he furrows his brows, and Erwin can feel him humming lightly, vibration making him shiver, his breath harsh.

He fights down the instinct to count, deeming it useless – focuses only on the feeling of Levi's mouth on him, the tightness in his stomach and chest, the strong grip of Levi's hands on his hips, secure.

It's slower, this time – slow enough that Levi's already beginning to pull off when he tenses up, swallowing his groan, white flashing behind his closed eyelids.

It's powerful. Leaves him with tingling fingers and tired limbs, boneless on the bed and only occasionally tensing up again, and even the slightest hint of feeling on his cock feels like hell, overstimulation making him tremble.

He can feel Levi's smile against his knee, the lightest kiss left there before he backs away completely. Erwin doesn't bother questioning his movements, trying to regain his breath, fighting off sleep. He dozes off anyway, content and exhausted.

He startles when Levi touches him again. His palms are slick with oil, travelling almost distractedly across his hipbones, one single finger stroking him. He bites his lips at that, a scream of _too much_ going straight to his brain. He releases his lower lip, letting out a shuddering breath that sounds too much like a moan to Levi's ears.

(Enough to make him bite the soft interior of his thigh, a warning nip that can easily become much worse. He stifles another cry, suddenly too aware of his body – of the shaking of his arms, and the temperature of his face, and the heaving of his chest.)

But Levi's not interested in his cock, now – instead, he goes lower, fingertips stroking lightly over his perineum and then breaching him slowly, one slender finger making its way inside him, one knuckle at a time.

He welcomes it, the burn insignificant, appreciated. He manages to open his eyes again just to see Levi looking down to where he's probing and slowly, slowly stretching, seemingly satisfied after a bit. The second one isn't much of a pain either, going in easily – gradually building up _that_ feeling.

(The fullness, the tightness of it, the closeness. Erwin craves it, at times like this, as necessary as air.)

It feels nice, soothing, the easy slide of Levi's small fingers and the careful scissoring of them. It feels nice until he curls them in the way he knows it's just right, hitting his prostate. The spark of sensation isn't as much pleasure as it's pain, sudden and violent as a slap.

Levi's merciless, pressing down on the same spot until Erwin thinks he can't hold back _anything_ anymore and then backing off, keeping at it with slow movements. He murmurs with his mouth pressed against his knee, his lips wet and fresh.

«You make such pretty faces, Commander. You want to cry out so bad, don't you? But I'm afraid that if you do I'll have to gag you. Wouldn't want all these aristocrats in the nearby rooms to hear Commander Smith, Humanity's last hope, begging for an underdog's cock to fill him up.» he teased, curving his fingers once more. Erwin didn't notice when he added one, but now there's three and he's hard again, impossibly, the pain lighting his nerves on fire.

It's no wonder he's this kind of freak, but it's almost miraculous how Levi just goes with it, without question and without judgement. If he was to ask for it Levi would make him bleed, and that's what ultimately pushes him over the edge one last time.

(He's sure he makes some kind of sound – but he can't bring himself to care, sensation drowning out everything else, the aftershocks running through him for much longer than he thought possible while he comes dry, his stomach tightening so hard it hurts.)

 

 

He must have blacked out for a moment, because when he comes to once again Levi is right in front of his face, stroking his cheek with his clean hand.

(The look on his face is soft, pleased. Erwin grows warm with it, still lost in the haze of the afterglow.)

«You've been so, so good. You made me really proud.» he whispers, kissing him deeply, slowly after, brushing his hair out of his face. «And since you've been so good, now you can make as much noise as you want, and touch me, if you like.» he continues, sitting back on his heels. He's still hard, and they've been at it for _hours –_ or at least it feels like it. And if he remembers well, he's been promised something.

«Fuck me.» he says, as nonchalantly as he can while dishevelled and flushed red with fatigue, his voice gravelly. And then, «Please.» he adds for good measure, mustering enough strength to flash him a cheeky smile, reaching out to him.

He can pinpoint the moment in which Levi takes him on the challenge, pouncing on him with too much energy to be _real_.

It doesn't take long – and he bears with it, rocking his hips slowly, whispering encouragements into his ear and just forgetting himself in the simple pleasure that is Levi thrusting into him, taking pleasure from him. When Levi lets out a low growl, stilling inside of him, he kisses him again, trying to convey things he's not sure how to say.

(He _will_ say them, eventually. Not tonight, maybe not tomorrow.

Once he'll regain control, once he'll be able to think again.

He hopes the moment won't come too quickly.)

 

 

He doesn't feel completely _inside_ his body for a while, after. He doesn't, in fact, until Levi doesn't get up, his movements jerky and sudden, like he just remembered something of the utmost importance.

He lazily follows him with his eyes when he goes to the dressing table, where a perfect pile of candid linen wash cloths awaits. He takes a couple, throwing one his way before wiping himself off with the other. Erwin does the same, even though his arms feel too heavy, his mind still swimming.

(Levi won't agree to sleep curled up to him if he's not clean, and that's too much of a risk to take. It gets cold, at night.)

Levi then proceeds to hang both soaked wash cloths on the chair, seemingly satisfied with himself. Erwin doesn't _ask_ , exactly, but his look must be enough of a question.

«Linen doesn't absorb water that way, nor that much in general. They'll know immediately what there's on those.» he says, shrugging. And, honestly, Erwin doesn't really see the point in saying anything about it.

(He smiles, instead, letting Levi shift closer to him. He burrows his nose in Levi's hair, still smelling softly of sweat – a real thing, grounding, not as unpleasant as one would think when it means he's alive even though Levi loathes it.

And he doesn't think.)

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> 1- So this wasn't on purpose. I swear. It was a typo or a Freudian slip or something, cause I wrote this particular sentence in class while loosely paying attention to other things and just. Test it out became that, and I meant to right it before publishing but I made the mistake of telling people (*ahem* allyouneedisagalgo, that you can find on Tumbr even if she's clearly a bad person *ahem* *not only but she's the main culprit*) I wrote it. And apparently it's the funniest bad pun I could make in that context, which is not entirely false, above all because I'm 99% sure that's something that actually came out of Levi's mouth at some point.  
> And that's the story of how that sentence came to.  
> I'm deeply sorry.  
> → Also please, please point it out if you see anything weird or that doesn't add up! I proof-read but it's usually useless, after having read it like one hundred times, so it's completely possible I messed up somewhere *uff*  
> → And linen definitely doesn't work that way. I bended nature to "comedic" purposes, I'm sorry. Again. It was just to finish this off on a lighter note to be honest.


End file.
